


Die schöne Galathée

by havisham



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Artists, Love Triangles, M/M, Pygmalion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:37:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: Yuuri has made the most perfect work of art -- as a statue, Victor is beautiful, exquisite -- a masterpiece. But a part of Yuuri longs to touch Victor and find living flesh instead of cold marble. He's about to get his wish -- but will he be ready for it?(Yes, it's a VictuuriPygmalionAU.)





	Die schöne Galathée

**Author's Note:**

> So, funny story, I was looking at official images on Twitter for _Yuri!!! On Museum_ , a title my brain still struggles to parse correctly because it seems like Yuuri's jerking it to statuary or something. From _that_ it was only a mental hop, skip  & a jump to a a Victuuri _Pygmalion_ AU, so there you go. I never said my thought process was a clear one. 
> 
> And I should mention somewhere, by Pygmalion I *do* mean hot statues coming to life, not George Bernard Shaw/My Fair Lady/Eliza Doolittle was _too damn good for Henry Higgins FIGHT ME_ etc. 
> 
> Thank you, please read on.

As the statue of Victor neared completion, Yuuri knew that he would be a masterpiece, perhaps _the_ masterpiece, the culmination of all Yuuri’s work so far. The last year had passed quickly (far more quickly than they had done when Yuuri was young) but throughout it, Victor had been Yuuri’s constant companion. He supposed that once Victor was finished, he would need to find a buyer for him -- marble didn’t buy itself, after all, and his tools had grown dull with use. 

Victor had been inspired by a dancer he’d once seen -- halfway through a program he’d accompanied Minako to. Distracted by a new project, Yuuri had hardly paid attention to what was happening on the stage. He’d looked up when Minako’s elbow had hit his ribs -- a little ashamed that his old teacher had to remind him to pay attention after all. The dancer was alone on the stage -- he was tall and had long, grey hair that was tied loosely back. His eyes were magnetic and he seemed to be looking right at Yuuri. 

He began to dance and Yuuri thought his heart would tear from his chest. He could not quite pinpoint why the dancer moved him so much -- his movements were simple and spare, but his whole physicality was arresting. It seemed that he was dancing only for Yuuri. 

“Close your mouth, Yuuri,” Minako said with a titter. She offered him a swig from her flask. He asked if she could introduce him to the dancer. 

“I’m not here to get you a date!” she scoffed, but after the curtain went down, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the backstage. Minako had worked with this dance company before -- she knew the director, Lilia, very well. They chatted together for some time -- while Yuuri stood awkwardly, having nothing to say after he’d been introduced. 

“Lilia, where’s that dancer -- the one with the solo at the end? Yuuri wants to meet him. He’s inspired, aren’t you, Yuuri?” 

“Please don’t bother him,” Yuuri muttered, feeling his face heat up. Lilia gave him a sharp look. 

“Viktor’s gone by now,” Lilia said. “Usually he loves to soak up all the adoration, but tonight, he had somewhere else to be. But perhaps --” 

“There’s no need,” Yuuri said hurriedly. He tapped Minako’s shoulder and told her that he would be going. He said goodbye to her and Lilia, and he paid no attention to anything at all until he made it home and into the old garage that was laughingly referred to as his studio. He started working on his Victor that night. 

Later on, Minako offered to set him up with Victor the dancer, but Yuuri always declined. He did that for many reasons, both serious and not. A moment of electricity didn’t mean much. What if Viktor the dancer turned out to be a disappointment? What if Yuuri seemed dull to him? The Victor that was taking shape in Yuuri’s studio had no such anxieties attached to him. He took Yuuri exactly as he was. Yuuri didn’t need anyone else, now.

*

He would talk to Victor sometimes. Usually it was during the winters, when the old heater he kept in the studio would take forever to get started and touching Victor’s chilly flesh was more of an ordeal than Yuuri could bear. “At least you’re warm, aren’t you?” he muttered, smiling at Victor’s upturned face, his mouth curled up into a blissful smile. 

The studio seemed warmer after that. Yuuri couldn’t explain it, but he didn’t need to -- the heater had finally decided to start working, after all. 

*

“You’re going to get sick if you stay in that garage all winter,” Mari told him, sliding a mug of hot tea into Yuuri’s hands as soon as he came in. Yuuri nodded vaguely, his mind still busy with what he had to do with Victor. 

“Oi, Yuuri, are you listening?” 

“I’m fine,” Yuuri said. Then he sneezed so loudly that the dishes rattled. Mari grabbed him and frog marched him to the medicine cabinet and forced him to take some medicine. Even though they were both adults, and had been so for a while now, it was the same with them as it ever was. Yuuri should have felt nothing but gratitude for his caring older sister, but instead he resented that this was even more time he’d be away from Victor. 

*

It was almost spring when Yuuri returned to the studio again. The wind blew some flower petals into the room as soon as he opened the door, and it seemed more drab and bleak than he remembered it. “Have you missed me, Victor?” he called out. 

Of course, there was no reply. 

*

Finally, Victor was ready. There was nothing Yuuri could do to improve him -- even though the temptation was strong to just -- _fix_ that, _change_ this. But Yuuri’s family and friends had been clamoring to see what he had been working on for so long, and so he had to resist the temptation to work on Victor further. He opened up his studio instead and let them see. Minako brought Lilia with her for reasons all her own, and Lilia brought a scruffy young dancer with her, one with blonde hair and in leopard print spots. He sneered at most of Yuuri’s other projects, all in various states of completion, but he saved his deepest scorn for Victor. 

“It doesn’t look like him at all,” he said, puffing out his cheeks and blowing his hair from his face. 

“W-what do you mean,” Yuuri said, “he’s not supposed to look like anyone in particular.” 

The dancer glared at him. “Who are you kidding, you idiot?” 

“Yuri,” Lilia said sharply, “if you can’t behave well, you can wait in the car!” 

The rest of the party went without incident. Yuuri’s manager -- the long-suffering Celestino -- even told him brightly that there was a possible buyer for Victor. Yuuri was surprised to hear that -- he’d made no effort to attract buyers to Victors at all and said so. 

“Yes, I know,” Celestino said with a sigh, shaking his hair back. “But you have fans, you know, Yuuri. People have been following this project for a long time.” 

“But still, it’s strange to want to buy it, sight unseen,” Yuuri muttered. 

“Well, we’ll arrange a meeting, see how it goes,” Celestino said. He gestured to the people who were taking photos of Victor. “Not really unseen now, is it?” 

Yuuri made a noise that could possibly be interpreted as assent and went off to find more wine. By the time everyone had left, Yuuri had found the wine and more. He was, in fact, thoroughly drunk. And a drunk Yuuri did things that a sober Yuuri never would. Tonight, he pushed a ladder against Victor and clambered up to his face. 

The moonlight silvered the side of Victor’s face. He looked almost alive, his cheek against the palm of Yuuri’s hand. “Victor, I wish you could talk to me,” Yuuri said, a little miserably. “I don’t want to sell you.” 

He really was drunk -- or maybe there was an earthquake? -- because at that moment it seemed that Victor began to shake. 

“Oh shit,” Yuuri said as his ladder began to slide dangerously away from Victor’s smooth chest. He fell with a thump on the cement floor and passed out for a few moments. When he woke up again, he felt strange. 

Something -- someone -- was looking down at him. After a beat or two, he realized who it was. Victor had come down from his pedestal and was peering at him. “Yuuri,” he said, a little reproachfully, “please don’t scare me like that. You could’ve cracked open your skull!” 

“Oh,” Yuuri said weakly. “I didn’t?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by Sath! All remaining mistakes & etc are mine. 
> 
> Title from the operetta by Suppé of the same name!


End file.
